


Phil's Song

by howells



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Piano, piano dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 06:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3317276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howells/pseuds/howells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan is too shy to write songs in front of Phil, so he plays his original compositions at three a.m.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phil's Song

Every night, without fail, Dan played piano from precisely three o’ clock a.m. to four-thirty. Phil reckoned Dan had no idea that the music woke Phil up every night, and Phil had no intention of telling him. Dan wasn’t embarrassed about playing song covers or classical music in front of Phil or his subscribers, but he was extremely secretive about the original compositions he played in the middle of the night. Phil loved Dan’s original music and knew that he would never hear another note if Dan discovered that anyone was listening.

            During the first few months of Dan and Phil living together, Dan used his nighttime piano sessions to play scales and song covers. Nineteen-year-old Dan was too shy to let Phil hear him practice and learn new songs, so Dan waited until he had mastered a piece before he played it in front of Phil. Phil always knew which song his flatmate was going to play for him, but he kept quiet.

            After Dan and Phil had gotten used to living together, Dan started playing his original music at night. The notes were awkward and slow at first, but Phil could tell that Dan had written them. After a few weeks of songwriting, Dan’s music became louder and more confident. Phil would have described Dan’s song as the temporary feeling you get when you’re really happy and confident, the one that convinces you for mere seconds that nothing can hurt you. It was beautiful.

            “Are you a heavy sleeper, Phil?” Dan asked tentatively the next morning.

            “Definitely,” Phil lied. “I once slept through this really obnoxious party my brother had. At least thirty different people brought their own radios and turned the volume all the way up.” The second part was also a lie. Phil had thrown that party, but Dan didn’t need that bit of information.

            Phil silently questioned the morality of listening to Dan’s private piano sessions and then lying to keep his actions secret. But as far as Phil was concerned, hearing Dan’s music was worth it.

. . .

Dan and Phil started dating after several months of living together. Phil thought it was about time. The night after their first date, Dan wrote the most beautiful song Phil had ever heard. The melody was sweet and slow, and Phil couldn’t get it out of his head. Dan nearly caught Phil humming Dan’s newest song as Phil washed the dishes.

            The night after Dan and Phil’s first real argument, Dan’s song started out loud and angry. _If songs had colors_ , Phil thought, _this would be red_. Dan’s music slowly transitioned into a tune that was slow, sad, and regretful. It sounded like an apology, a sincere one that was never meant to be delivered. The next day, Phil brought Dan breakfast in bed to say sorry. When Dan apologized back, Phil told him there was no need.

. . .

After Phil proposed, Dan’s compositions were more beautiful than ever. Dan could make a keyboard sound like an entire orchestra, a symphony of joy. Phil knew a harmony was supposed to contain more than just one instrument, but somehow he had still never heard anything more harmonious than Dan’s new songs.

. . .

At the wedding reception, after Dan and Phil had their first dance, Dan excused himself to walk towards the stage at the front of the room. Phil assumed Dan was going to make a toast, but instead Dan sat down behind the grand piano on the side of the stage.

            “This is a song I wrote for you, Phil,” Dan said into the nearby microphone. Dan rested his hands on the keys of the piano, took a deep breath, and began to play.

            The beginning of the song was slow, unsteady, and oddly familiar. The notes emerged sporadically and uncertainly. A few bars into the song, the melody started to become steadier and happier. Phil then realized that Dan was combining the songs he had written over ten years ago. Next was the music Dan had composed when he had started dating Phil, a sweet tune that flowed into the angry melody of their first fight, and finally transitioned into the song Dan had played the night Phil proposed. Dan’s songs had sounded beautiful separately, but Phil knew that they belonged to one single composition. Somehow, the starkly different tunes combined seamlessly, fitting together the way Dan and Phil did.

. . .

“Dan, I have a confession,” Phil said after the wedding reception.

            “What is it?” Dan asked, looking a bit concerned.

            “I’ve been listening to your songs every night since you moved in,” Phil admitted. “That song was all of them put together, wasn’t it?”

            “Yeah,” Dan said shyly, grinning at Phil. “I can’t believe you listened to my stupid music all these years.”

            “It’s beautiful,” Phil told Dan. “Like you.”

            “That’s so cheesy, Mr. Honeymoon Phase,” Dan groaned.

            “You love me,” Phil said, grinning.

            “I do,” Dan replied, trying not to smile back.

            “I love you too, Dan,” Phil replied. “Also, I lied to you about being a heavy sleeper.”

            “Obviously.”

            “Your songs really are beautiful, though,” Phil said sincerely.

            “They’re _yours_ , you spoon,” Dan said affectionately.

            All this time, Phil had been calling the songs “Dan’s songs”. But they were _his_. They were _Phil’s_ songs. Phil’s melodies, Phil’s harmonies, Phil’s highs and lows. _Nothing is quite as amazing as the feeling of something so beautiful being mine_ , Phil thought.

_Nothing except Dan, of course._

. . .

Dan taught his and Phil’s daughter to play piano. One night, Phil heard Dan and his daughter playing Phil’s song.

            It sounded better with accompaniment.

. . .

Everything ends. Dan and Phil’s daughter moved out, and Dan didn’t play piano that night. He felt like he’d forgotten how to do it alone.

. . .

The night Phil died, Dan wrote a song that would have reminded Phil of rainstorms and something gray.

            That was the last time Dan played piano.


End file.
